We Must Prevail
by Dedeen
Summary: "You know, I cleaned up our daughter for like an hour at four a.m. this morning" - Jim. Pre Episode 7.18


I just thought Jim's little comment should be elaborated. This is not for those who have weak stomachs! You've been warned!

This little segment was inspired by the show, 'quints by surprise.'

I own nothing.

* * *

Pam and I knew we'd hit the jackpot with our daughter. Happy-go-lucky, content, easy as it goes… that's Cecelia. Everyday this little girl finds new ways of giving Pam and I a few good laughs and also some gray hairs. Currently, the reason for our graying hairs comes from Cece's very creative way of removing her clothes and recently, emptying her diaper. Yup, you heard me right, EMPTYING her diaper.

It all began on a typical Tuesday night. We have a pretty awesome nightly routine and Cece is usually down and out by 8:30. The trick is a bath, a diaper change, low lights, and then we hit her where it hurts – right in the belly with a big warm bottle of the good stuff. And if that doesn't do the trick, we go right into story time for the knockout. Ruthless, I know… but Pam and I needed to regain our life back after the whole reverse cycling thing.

This routine has worked pretty well so far. I mean, why wouldn't it? Thinking about it makes me drowsy with sleep.

But I'll tell you why it hasn't worked for the past couple of weeks. Cece has decided she no longer likes to wear diapers. So on that Tuesday night, Pam and I were very surprised to find that not only was Cece still awake after our baby-proof nightly routine, but she had removed her diaper and shirt.

We are first time parents and we thought it was funny. We were too distracted by the cute baby to see the alarming bells going off around us.

So after three nights of removing her diaper and shirt we decided it was time to take action. So we put her in a onesie and regained control of the situation….for next couple of nights, that is. Sure enough, she was able to wiggle herself out of the diaper. Onesie? Still on and intact.

"How did she do that?" Pam said.

"I don't know," I said looking down at Cece in the crib, beaming her killer smile. The nerve.

"We need to do something about this. I can't keep washing her bed sheets everyday!"

"I know what to do." I said confidently.

And at the time I thought I did. I'm a diapering expert. And in spite of the onesie set back, Cece met her match – the backwards diaper. I'm happy to say that it didn't come off for the following nights. Problem solved. Battle won. However, that is not how the story ends. Cece is patient and she was just waiting for Pam and I to have our guards down.

And we did.

Last night.

Cece came at us with a vengeance - showed us no mercy. I think it had something to do with how Pam and I snuck out for a date night this past Friday and left her home with Grandma.

So this is how it all went down...

We put her to bed at around eight-ish and just to make sure she had no time to ponder on the mechanics of removing a backward-diaper, we gave her a nice, long bath and splayed her with a little chamomile lotion - a soothing trick Pam learned in mommy and me.

Cece didn't see that one coming and was out like a light. We even checked before we went to bed and she was sound asleep. But Cece knew she couldn't come at us just then, she needed to give us this false sense of hope so that she could strike back when we least expected – the Trojan horse kind-of-thing.

It was about four in the morning when we heard the babbling coming over the baby monitor. It was still dark out and as long as she was babbling she was fine. If the morning light had been coming through the window, we knew she wouldn't fall back asleep. But it was still dark. We thought she would put herself right back to sleep. But needles to say, the babbling continued.

"Babe?" Pam said sleepy.

"Uhmmmm…"

"Go check on her."

"She's fine… she's talking in her sleep. Just like you," I said.

"I don't talk in my sleep."

"Umm, yes you do."

"Please, Babe? Just peek in there." Pam said, turning to me with pleading eyes. I can't deny this woman anything… well, almost anything.

"Okay, okay." I said defeated, swiveling my feet of the bed. "You owe me."

I shuffled my feet down the hallway to Cece's room and when I pushed the door open I was hit with the wonderful aroma of baby poop. _Okay_, I thought, _Cece just needs a diaper change_. No big deal. So when I turned the light on I was horrified by the scene before me.

Cece was butt naked – no onesie and no diaper. The diaper? On the floor with Mr. Bear. The onesie? A casualty - nowhere in sight. Oh, and how can I forget? Poop was everywhere. On the crib rails, on the sheets, on the wall, and don't you worry, she got it all over herself too.

"Cecelia Marie," I said.

And in true Cece fashion, she looked at me with her bright, blue, innocent eyes which were clearly saying, "Gotcha!"

"What did you do? Oh my God."

I didn't know what to do. I was torn between shutting the door and running for refuge or just curling into the fetal position. I didn't see this coming.

"Pam," I called down the hall. "You need to see this."

She didn't hear me, so I walked to our bedroom and peeked my head inside. "Pam…"

"Whaaa…" She slurred groggily.

"You need to come and see this."

She squinted her eyes to look at me, still floating between awake and asleep, as she pushed herself up on her elbows. "Whaa…whaa happened?

"There are no words to describe it. You need to see it for yourself."

After much persistence, Pam reluctantly followed behind me towards Cece's room. She was immediately hit by the sweet, sweet smell of baby poo. "Oh no, please don't tell me she—"

The look on Pam's face was priceless when she saw Cece playing with her poop like it was play-doh.

"Oh my God!"

"Yup," I said. "That's our daughter."

"Whaaaa… Cece what... I don't… How did she…."

"She has outsmarted us once again."

"I can't function right now," she said baffled. "I was up until late getting Erin that computer. Jim...Can you?"

Someone had to do it. "Yeah," I told her. She had a few late nights trying to get Erin a new computer. She's determined to be the best office administrator in the history of Dunder-Mifflin Sabre. "Go back to bed."

And she didn't need me to tell her twice. Before I knew it, it was just me, Cece and her mess.

Oh, and all that time Cece continued with her revolting pastime. She was all smiles, very content to be swimming in her own poo.

Hosing her down seemed like the best option. But instead, I walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower and grabbed a towel – baby wipes were no match for this. I went back to the room and lifted her off the crib, holding her at arm's length, like she was a ticking bomb. I went straight into the bathroom and placed her under the running water. She thought it was the funniest thing.

"You're something else," I told her.

She squirmed and wiggled in my hands. "Dahhhh-dahhhhh," was her response.

"Don't try to charm your way out of this."

She scrunched her nose and flashed me the five teeth that have cut through.

"What am I going to do with you, Huh?"

Once all the…mess had been washed down the drain, I began to scrub her clean. And when I said it was everywhere, I meant it. In between her toes, behind her ears, in her bellybutton…I couldn't even imagine the mess that waited for me back in the nursery. This girl went for the kill shot.

I dried her and I noticed her eyes were getting sleepy once again. She rubbed her doll face on my shirt and I thought, _this is my chance to take her down_. So, I went downstairs and made her a nice, warm bottle. I admit that I was a little tempted to put a bit of gin to make sure that she would definitely go down, but as soon as she saw the bottle, her eyes lit up and like an inoffensive animal, she took my bait.

I took her upstairs and laid her next to Pam. She was gulping down the bottle and I knew I had a couple of minutes to figure out my game plan before she actually fell asleep. Because it was late and my mind wasn't working at its full capacity, the first thing I thought of was… Duct tape. My dad always said, "Jimmy, you'll need two tools in life: WD-40 to make things go, and duct tape to make them stop." And I definitely needed this to stop.

I ran downstairs and searched through our junk drawer until I found it. I raced back up the stairs and made a quick stop in the nursery, grabbed a diaper, some jammies, and returned to our bedroom just as Cece was slowly loosing grasp of the bottle.

I pulled her into my arms and held the bottle for her until her little mouth stopping sucking. She was finally down. Mission accomplished. She's still small, but I will never underestimate her might. For that reason, I laid her on the bed, backward diapered her AND duct taped the straps on the diaper. I also put her in jammy pants and onesie over the jammy pants. This might seem harsh, but drastic measures needed to be taken after her little show tonight.

For the next half hour I spent cleaning the nursery and putting all her bed sheets to wash. When I returned to bed it was about five in the morning and both girls were sound asleep. I wanted to bring Cece back to her crib, but she seemed so comfortable there. I let her sleep in our bed, snuggled between Pam and I. Besides, I should keep a close watch on her in case she's planning to strike again.

We must prevail.

* * *

Thanks for reading!


End file.
